I spent the entire week being worried over the whereabouts of my friend. I emailed her several times. I called her home long distance. I emailed her kids. I emailed her brother, who answered saying he thought she had one off to her island home for a week and was having trouble getting on line. Well since this home is actually on an Island and one cannot get there without a reasonably sized boat or a ridiculously small plane, plus strangers who are not greeted by a resident are, as a rule, killed and buried in the sand by the Island's ubiquitous "handyman" and his tractor of all trades, I decided to just wait it out. That decision reached, I retreated into my "Cave O' Hits" and recorded music, until my pal returned to her mainland digs and resumed to commune. So, says I. "Thanks for the heads up on your trip" Says she "It was all in my blog." Oops!
So I realize that I have gotten so involved in my own writing that I have not been paying attention to one who reads my stuff all the time and is a damn good writer her own self.
I fucked up. I don't plan to get so self involved again. My recent writing is just stuff. If you want to write well, you had better listen to what other people are saying because you don't own the words. They are only there for the sharing.
T Texino
Dog House
1 comment:
Oh, Tex. You are not in the dog house. You were making good use of your time with that music and your writing.
But I do appreciate your concern. I really do. It was sweet. And I should have written you beforehand but the day and night before we left, our electricity was out for eight hours and I couldn't get online and oh, it was just a mess.
I'll never do that again, I promise.
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